


Moonridge 2007 Snippets

by Mab (Mab_Browne)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot, challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:37:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mab_Browne/pseuds/Mab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two drabbles and a ficlet written for Moonridge 2007.  These stories are related by theme, which is basically Jim and Blair in love and having sex.</p>
<p>Originally posted August 2007 at 852 Prospect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonridge 2007 Snippets

## Moonridge 2007 Snippets

#### by Mab

Author's website: <http://mab.slashzone.org/>  
  
I wrote these three little things for Moonridge. I didn't intend them to have a theme, but they do sort of, if Jim and Blair in love and having sex is a theme. Many thanks to Patt Rose, Slipperie Slope, and Caro Dee's 'Orgasms for Moonridge' challenge, for their different but all very useful ways of contributing to the success of Moonridge.  
  
This story is a sequel to: 

* * *

The Watchers 

I don't presume to know how Sandburg thinks (let alone what Sandburg's thinking) but anyone can see how he feels. The kid glows. Sandburg's watching Ellison like he's Moses with a brush-cut, come from the mountain with stone tablets that read, `whatever the hell you do, it's all great'. Ellison watches right back, although sometimes he looks at me, apology and defiance mixed together. I was a good detective before I planted my ass in this chair; I don't need the writing on the wall. Those two and their secrets... I need a cup of strong coffee. And tap-dance practice. 

* * *

Negotiations 

Jim doesn't think that there's going to be a problem, precisely, but he stills feels nervous as he lays everything out on the night-stand. Blair's showering, and that makes Jim feel happy and uncertain at the same time; they're getting ready for sex instead of bullshitting about the spur of the moment. He takes a breath; he's ready. 

Blair comes up - his hair is dry, except for a narrow border of damp around the hairline, and Jim thinks it's a measure of how far gone he is that the idea of Blair in a shower-cap is cute. 

Blair smiles when he sees the things on the night-stand. "Told you that you'd like it." And Jim did. Being inside Blair like that, watching Blair's face. It's amazing how his fears and inhibitions fell away together. 

"Yeah, I did. And that's why I want you to do me tonight." 

Blair is so stunned that Jim feels half-way insulted. Nice opinion you have of me, there, Sandburg. But a new smile appears and Jim decides he can be forgiving. 

"Great. I mean - great." He has an armful of Blair, warm and damp and smelling of sandalwood, and there's some horseplay which is essentially foreplay, before Blair stills and looks down at Jim with huge, questioning eyes. 

"You're sure about this?" 

"No, I'm not sure, but I still want to give it a try." 

Blair's hand strokes over Jim's cock. "You certainly feel sure enough to be going on with. Want me to blow you while I get you ready?" 

Jim rolls them to their sides, face-to-face, chest-to-chest. He stretches out a hand for some gel, turns back and lifts his thigh onto Blair's hip. "I like watching your face sometimes." 

"A kink almost perverted in its non-kinkiness. No problems, my man, you can see my face. I can do this pretty thoroughly by touch." He proves that with sureness, and quite a few kisses, and the usual wise-acre remarks. "Hey, you can't see my face with your eyes shut." 

Jim opens his eyes. "It feels good," he says, and whatever Blair sees in his face makes his pupils even darker and wider 

"We've done this before." 

"We should do it again some day." Jim wriggles against the fingers inside him. It's strange; the day that he won't find it strange is a way away yet, but he does like it. He wants more, for himself, and for Blair. "Now, how about you fuck me." 

Blair's hand leaves Jim's body, and he reaches across the bed to use the wipes that Jim's put out. 

"Hey, no fair, man." He holds up the condom packet. 

"Perfectly fair. You wouldn't let me go bare. ` Urinary tract infections, Jim.' `You hate cranberry juice, Jim.' `Let's not have to worry about reactions to antibiotics, Jim.'" 

This little conversation ought to be chilling the mood, but in the end it's just another game. Blair's biting his lip, which looks very chewable. Jim puts teasing that lip with his own teeth on his list of things to do soon. 

"I like cranberry juice. I've never had a reaction to an antibiotic in my life. And you're a sentinel. I just have to blow _on_ you, let alone blow you, and you'll come." 

Jim stretches, watching closely to see that Blair gets the full effect. He does. "No glove, no love, Chief." He rolls onto his front, and watches Blair get the full effect of that too. 

"Okay, okay. Jeez, when did you turn into the health nut?" A kiss to the small of Jim's back suggests that Blair's not that irate. Jim wonders maybe if he claims a bad reaction to latex sometime in the future...and then he grunts as Blair's fingers return. 

"Okay?" 

"Fine." And here's the sticking point, as it were, a touch of burn as tender tissues point out that Blair's cock is broader than a couple of fingers, and god, for a moment the feel, the smell, even, of the condom distracts him. But then Blair is, slowly, very slowly, inside him. Hands humid with nervous sweat grasp at Jim's hips. 

"Still fine?" 

Jim's answer is a small rocking movement back and forth, towards and away, and he takes a breath in that's just shy of a gasp. Blair's an average-sized guy, but right now Jim would swear that John Holmes is behind him. 

Blair sighs. "Oh. You are such a sight, so gorgeous." He starts moving, carefully, gathering confidence as Jim does. Jim can do this. It's strange, yes, but there's satisfaction that he didn't expect. Pleasure, sure, as his body adjusts. It's not melting his brain yet, although the potential is there - oh yes, it's there. 

But what he loves right now is the noise that Blair makes, the way his body warms, the way that this is yet another way to own Blair. Jim always has been an insecure, possessive son of a bitch. 

* * *

Willingly Lost 

Blue; it's the colour of both flame and ice. And now assessing, glacier blue burns to furnace heat as Jim thrusts his hips again and again. Blair's waiting for the moment - _that_ moment - when Jim is willingly wrecked and lost. The helpless shivering starts, and those searching eyes are shut, blind to everything but glory. Shuttered blindness is counterpoint to the gasping mouth that is so wide open to let in breath, to let out sounds that Jim might hear but never discerns as he endlessly rides a wave of pleasure that's almost frightening to them both. `Almost' never counts. 

* * *

End


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